Breathe No More
by Deystar Skyi
Summary: Sonfic to the Evanescence son Breathe No More. Hermione is thinking about her relationship with Ron... rated for selfdestructive thoughtsactions, and the ending is harder for younger audiences to understand.


**Disclaimer-**Joanne Katharine Rowling owns the characters. Evanescence owns the song.

**Warnings-**Self-destructive thoughts/actions.

**A/n-**This story means a lot to me personally. In effect, a piece of my soul's in it, if you know what I mean. It's very abstract, so do not look for a straight answer to the ending. Please R&R.

**Breathe No More**

Deystar

_**I've been looking in the mirror for so long**_

_**That I've come to believe my soul's on the other side**_

Hermione Granger looked forward, her eyes empty, her face solemn. Her reflection shone back at her in the full-size mirror in the sixth year girl's common room, where she was alone. Christmas break always provided empty quarters for the girl. But, this was not on her mind. It was nowhere in her being, lost information.

She just sat at the edge of the bed that normally was occupied by Parvati, and looked into the mirror, her eyes soulless. She just stared, unmoving, in the early hours between night and day. Slowly, hesitantly, she placed her hand on the soft surface of the mirror. It was cold, but she was numb.

_**All the little pieces falling**_

_**Shatter**_

Almost without a single thought, she whispered the spell, and suddenly the mirror shattered into many pieces. As she watched, the pieces fell in an almost dream-like state, all shattering and falling rhythmically until they reached the ground.

She looked down, and frowned. She got up, and knelt down next to the pieces of glass, looking into them and the little mini reflections of herself.

_**Shards of me**_

_**Too sharp to put back together**_

_**Too small to matter**_

They were her. The shards were of the soul she'd left behind, the spirit she once inhabited. She looked down at them, logic of the old her seeping through slightly. They were too sharp to try and pick up, of course. They were nothing but broken glass. They did not matter. And they were her. So, in other words, she did not matter, these small pieces of her. They could just be left there...

_**But big enough to cut me**_

_**Into so many little pieces**_

She sighed. They were indeed too small, nothing about them important. But, they were enough. They were enough to tear her apart from the inside out, enough to ruin her, cut her, make her bleed. In reality, she was just a mass of small pieces, ready to fall apart, break, tear. She just barely remained together and able to function.

_**I try to touch her**_

She looked down, and saw her reflection. She could see herself, but it was not her. It was her reflection. This was a whole different person. Reflection just looked back up at her with the gaunt, empty expression Hermione herself wore. Hesitantly, she reached her hand out, and then stopped, hesitated. Then, she went to touch the other being, the reflection.

_**And I bleed**_

_**I bleed**_

_**And I breathe**_

_**I breathe no more**_

The glass slit her fingers easily. Red droplets of blood formed immediately and then a small trickle of blood. She watched it, entranced, captivated. The small, steady motion of the blood... she bled... and she would bleed until it was suppressed.

She took a breath, and let it out. The process was different now, though she did not know why or how. She held her breath... for a moment.

_**Take a breath and I try to draw from my spirits well**_

_**Yet again you refuse to drink like a stubborn child**_

She took a deep breath, and could remember everything in a flash.

She was with Ron, her boyfriend, in the common room. Harry and Ginny were outside, probably in a snowball fight with Luna and Neville again. They sat together in one of the squishy chairs, Ron reading a Quidditch book, Hermione herself doing homework. They were basically enjoying each other's presence when Ron put an arm around her.

_"Ron,"_ She'd said, smiling as she moved around his grasp. It was hard to pay attention to her paper when he did that, and, of course, work was still everything to Hermione, aside from her friends. He frowned.

_"Aw, c'mon."_ He replied, putting the book down. _"Honestly, you need to be more affectionate."_

_"What do you mean?"_ she asked, surprised.

He shrugged back to her. _"You know, that's why Fred and Angelina divorced, though they shouldn't have married so early. She never showed the affection he needed."_

Hermione was at a loss. _"Well, it wasn't her fault."_

_"It wasn't her fault she didn't show affection?"_

_"No! Some people are just like that, you know."_

_"Whatever."_

Hermione looked down, and scooted slightly away. Is that what he truly believed? This was her, the real her, that wanted to sit and enjoy his presence, yet he refused that tiny bit of herself.

How could he be this way? Couldn't he see reason? He was looking it in the face; she was proof that not every woman was exactly what he'd want.

_**Lie to me**_

_**Convince me that I've been sick forever**_

She looked down at her bleeding hands, and sighed. She could remember other things, too, that were making her dread leaving the room at dawn. Little things tweaked her, mainly about Ron and the other girls. It was a nightmare when they got together... Ron insulted and hated them, and they hated and insulted right back. Only Ginny, her best gal-friend, got semi-along with him, and that was because she was his sister. Everything went wrong then... and how could she choose between them?

Couldn't someone just come and tell her that it was all a mistake, a misunderstanding? Maybe someone could tell her that she had been mistaken the entire time, she'd been wrong. Of course, that would be a lie, but she wouldn't mind that one...

_**And all of this**_

_**Will make sense when I get better**_

Somebody should tell her this lie. She was sick, mistaken, and when she got better, when she got it right, everything would make sense. Everything would be fine then. Everything would be perfect, like the ending of a novel... right?

_**But I know the difference**_

_**Between myself and my reflection**_

But, as she looked into the shards of mirror, shards of herself, she knew something she'd known all along. She was not herself... not all the time, at least. She was sometimes this other person, maybe even her reflection, while her normal being stayed here, in the mirror. Oh, but now the mirror was broken! Would that mean it was over? But, she did know what was her and what was this other self... that was a start, right? She knew who was who, because they were different.

_**I just can't help but to wonder**_

_**Which of us do you love?**_

A sinking feeling was in her heart. She knew that this other self was shown just as much as her true personality. So, if Ron sometimes loved her and sometimes couldn't understand her...

Did he love her, or this strange change of personality?

_**So I bleed**_

_**I bleed**_

_**And I breathe**_

_**I breathe now**_

She looked down at her cut, and started to cry. It amazed her, really. She didn't think she had enough emotion left in her after the Numbness to cry. And she did not cry of pain, either, as the pain was still as nothing compared to her real troubles. It was her heart that hurt. The pain of being torn in two, hating the man that caused her grief yet loving him with all her heart. And she couldn't take it. She just couldn't...

_**Bleed**_

_**I bleed**_

_**And I breathe**_

_**I breathe**_

_**I breathe**_

She just watched the blood flow, until it stopped. Unsatisfied, she put her hands down on the shards gently, and then pressed firmly. A single tear fell from her eyes to her right palm, and she turned the hand around to look at the blood. It was very little at first, and then grew, a mass of red. She turned it around to discover she'd accidentally cut the other side. But it mattered little. She was crying. She was bleeding. She was breathing less deeply. And no one cared.

_**I breathe no more**_

When Ginny came in to wake her up the next morning, she was not surprised to see Hermione asleep in her bed, just as she had been for the last several hours since Ginny left to go to bed last night. Impulsively, she looked towards the mirror. It was really a beautiful mirror, with a flawless glass surface that seemed, at least to Ginny, to hold a reflection with emotion greater than any muggle artifact she'd ever seen.

* * *

So... that's it. Like it, hate it, please review. Love you guys. 


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